


my heart needs a polygraph

by jessicamiriamdrew



Category: Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alliterative Boyfriends, Infidelity, Love Triangles, M/M, Science Boyfriends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew/pseuds/jessicamiriamdrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Tony fall into what seems to be an easy arrangement of science and sex. The two of them mostly make sense. </p>
<p>It's not Bruce's fault that Peter Parker comes along and makes things a little more complicated by asking him to coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. there's choices i can make

**Author's Note:**

> Rated explicit for future chapters! This was supposed to be a fill over at avengerkink but the plot line got a little bit away from me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I don’t want to give this stupid lecture at the university,” Tony says while adjusting his tie.

Bruce laughs from where he’s sitting on the corner of the bed, watching Tony get dressed up. “You know, that’s the one thing I was good at. Giving talks.”

“Yeah? You want to give this one for me?” Tony makes one final tug at his tie and grabs his coat from the chair.

“It’s for the Stark Enterprises donation to the university. It’d hardly be fitting for me to give that talk. Plus…you know I’m still keeping a low profile.” Bruce stands up to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Besides,” he says, looking into Tony’s face in the mirror, “I’m not nearly as charming as you.”

“Fine, fine.” Tony gives his reflection a grimace before nudging Bruce aside. “Are you going to at least sit in the audience?”

“Of course.” Bruce smiles and leans forward to kiss Tony.

-

Bruce finds a seat near the back of the auditorium. It’s ingrained in him now. He always picks places where he could make an easy exit—whether it’s because he’s about to kill someone or someone is going to kill him. The lecture is crowded, though, and he’s only a little taken aback when someone sits down next to him, apparently not picking up on all of the “please leave me alone” vibes Bruce had been emanating.

“Hey,” he says. “Is this seat taken? I mean, I know I already sat down…fuck.” The guy slaps his hands on his face and groans into his palms. “Sorry,” he says, taking his hands off of his face.

“It’s okay. You can sit here.” Bruce is laughing despite himself and how badly he’d wanted to sit alone for this lecture.

“I’m Peter. I mean…is that weird? Is it okay if I tell you my name?” The kid is babbling again and Bruce lets himself take a good luck at this guy. Lean, brown hair, glasses. Christ. He can’t be more than 20.

“Bruce,” he says. Peter’s eyes go wide and Bruce’s body is already stiffening. He’s cataloguing the exits, trying to figure out which one will cause the least disruption.

“Bruce Banner. Oh my god, you’re a freakin’ rock star! I’ve read all of your papers!”

The adrenaline flooding his system slows down. Scientific curiosity of an academic nature is something he can handle. The kind of attention that ends up with him strapped down to tables he actively tries to avoid.

“Ahh, yeah, that’s me. Are you interested in science too?” He’s awful at this small talk shit but he’s trying. It’s been a long time—he thinks Tony was the last—to know anything about his research.

“I mean, yeah, absolutely. It’s my major—well, biology, but I love it at all and oh my god I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. I can’t wait to tell Aunt May.” A sheepish smile shows up on his face during the last sentence.

Bruce feels a blush spreading across his face which is silly because he’s a grown man. It’s very nice, he concedes to himself, to have someone who wants to talk to him because of his work and not because of the Hulk.

A tap on the microphone pulls them both out of their conversation. The speaker starts droning on in praise of Tony and Bruce smiles. He wonders how much outlandish praise they had to put in before Tony approved it. He glances at Peter—who is too fucking young—to find him rapt with attention. By the time Tony comes on stage, Peter has his notebook out to take notes.

It’s a good speech, Bruce thinks. It damn well ought to be after all of the times he’s listened to Tony practicing it. Tony has his public persona on and he’s nailed the damn thing. During the standing ovation, Bruce looks at the exits, trying to decide if he should make a run for it now or wait for the auditorium to clear out.

He’s stopped by the lightest of touches on his arm from Peter.

“God, I mean, you can say no, it’s totally fine but—,” he pauses, the smallest hint of a blush popping up on his face, “do you want to go for coffee? If you’re too busy, it’s fine, I totally understand.”

Bruce looked to the podium where Tony is still talking to various public figures. He probably wouldn’t be home for several hours. Besides, it’s just coffee.

“Yeah,” he says. “I can do that.”

Peter keeps up a steady banter as they walk around the streets of Brooklyn. Of course Peter knows Brooklyn—another reason why Bruce should not be doing this—but the kid is so genuine.

Bruce orders some tea while Peter gets a black coffee. He isn’t quite quick enough to pay for his own tea before Peter waves his money away. “No way, this was my idea.”

He feels something heavy and slow and hot curling up in his stomach and it takes him a moment to categorize it as sexual desire. He’s long ago conquered sexual impulses and pulses and for Peter to actually make a blip on his radar is disconcerting. Bruce takes a sip of his scalding hot tea in an attempt to focus himself on the conversation and not what some primal instinct is trying to urge.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Peter says, pausing to fumble with the lid of his coffee, “you must think I’m a real weirdo. I just can’t believe I met one of my idols while listening to another of my idols give a talk.” Peter lets out a genuine grin before taking a long swig of his coffee.

“It was a pretty good talk once I made him promise to stick to the script.” Bruce smiles to himself before picking up his tea. He inhales the aroma, finding peace in it, to calm down his brain.

“Of course—of course you know Tony Stark.” Peter has this look on his face that’s so giddy it seems unreal. “Wow.”

Seriously, Bruce has spent most of his life trying to be a good person, but he’s also completely unused to having this kind of praise lavished upon him. He’s never claimed to be a saint.

“Yeah,” he says, “we’re close.” That’s close enough to the truth, right? Guilt stabs at his chest but he tries to wave it away. He isn’t doing anything wrong. It’s just coffee.


	2. always eager to pack my bags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Sorry it took me so long!

“I met someone today,” he says to Tony. “At your talk, I mean.” Met isn’t exactly the right word--Peter fell into him and demanded Bruce take a closer look.  
  
“Oh yeah? Someone totally enraptured with my good looks and charms, I assume?” Tony’s grinning, so self-assured, used to playing the celebrity, and for maybe the first time it actually bothers him.  
  
Bruce laughs but it rings a little bit hollowly inside of him. “No, ah, I mean, yes, but he was more interested in me.”  
  
Tony pauses and closes some screens to look at Bruce. “You look like the cat that got the cream.”  
  
“He’s a kid. Maybe twenty, max.” Bruce stumbles over that last bit, feels dirty while the number twenty rolls out of his mouth. “Says he’s read all my papers and he definitely understands them. We talked about it for a while.”  
  
“At my talk?” Bruce nods quietly in response. “When I looked up afterwards, you were gone and I know you didn’t get there that early.” It’s unspoken but Bruce can feel the accusation hanging in the air, like Tony thinks Bruce has done something wrong.  
  
“He wanted to go for coffee afterwards, to talk some more.” That’s all it was, he repeats in his mind. It was only a talk.  
  
“And you went for coffee?” Tony has a pen clenched between the fingers on his left hand and Bruce thinks the ink cartridge in it might explode. “I can’t even get you to go out for dinner.” _With me_ , Bruce’s mind finishes.  
  
Bruce notices the uptick in his pulse. He’s still at calm levels. This is fine. Everything is fine.  
  
“He just wanted to talk about research with me.” The words are hurtling out of his mouth before he can even think about slowing down or yielding at all. “What, I’m not allowed to have other friends?”  
  
The pen crushes between Tony’s hands and Bruce watches the ink drip onto the floor.  
  
“Not when you’re lying to me and hiding it from me!”  
  
“Oh, what, am I supposed to text you my every move?” Bruce pulls his phone out of his pocket and slams it against the table, keeping his hand wrapped around it. “What are you, SHIELD? Are you my new cage?” Tony’s eyes are turning from anger to something softer but Bruce is just fucking _over_ this entire conversation.  
  
“Besides, this is only sex, right? Just two scientists sleeping together to ease lonely nights because nobody else will put up with them?” The thought drubs in his chest: that none of this means anything to Tony, that he’s an acquisition for Tony who can be useful for sex and science.  
  
He walks out of the room before bothering to look at Tony. He can’t do this right now, not with blood pounding in his ears. Bruce knows he has to leave for a few days. Nothing happened between him and Peter except scientific curiosity. Part of his brain is firing off alarm signals, but he’s always been a consummate professional at ignoring those.  
  
When he gets to his suite, he grabs his tablet, a few books, and outfits for a week. It’s time to go make himself comfortable at a hotel. He can’t be around Tony now, not with this tension, and the way Peter Parker’s smile keeps popping up in his mind.  
  
-

Safely ensconced in a hotel room, Bruce even allows himself the indulgence of ordering room service up for meals. He’s too on edge to go out and deal with people in New York City and he doesn’t doubt that JARVIS is scanning camera footage trying to find him, even three days after he walked out. That should bother him more than it does, he thinks, that he knows Tony won’t respect his privacy.  
  
Then again, it’s not like Tony is hiding his efforts. He’s being up front about it, if the thirty two missed calls are anything to judge by. Countless text messages that he deletes without reading. He needs space more than anything right now, especially after how clear it’s been lately that he and Tony don’t mean anything.  
  
But the name Peter flashes up on his phone and Bruce feels a soft smile spreading on his face. Peter reminds him of a younger Bruce, all potential and promise and desire to change the world.  
  
This text message he actually opens, too curious to resist. Bruce hasn’t had a chance to think about texting Peter himself, too worried about what it means in context of his thing with Tony.

_Thanks for coffee the other day. I didn’t know if you’d want to do it again sometime?_

Bruce can picture Peter on the other end of the phone, imagines Peter writing out the text a few times before deleting it and starting over. It’s undeniably nice to have someone flustered over him. Tony had arrived in his life and almost demanded that he show interest. But this is different-it’s simpler and flattering.  
  
 _Sure,_ he texts back. _I’d like that._ And he really, really would - if the flutter of nerves he feels is any indication.

 _What about tonight?_ The text pops back instantly and Bruce smiles. It’s not like he has anywhere else to be and he doesn’t think Tony would necessarily make a scene. He’s a little too high profile to get away with this sort of thing anymore.

 _I’m not a huge coffee drinker. Maybe we could do something else?_ He’s thinking about frozen yogurt, maybe, or a bakery, but his phone vibrates before he can send another text.

  
 _Dinner? The Great Impasta at 8?_  
  
He lets himself think about it for a moment: dinner with Peter Parker, scientist in training, someone interested in him and not the monster. Bruce doesn’t make a lot of friends anymore and he types the _yes_ before he can talk himself out of it.  
  
It’s a friendly thing. There’s nothing else to this which definitely explains why Bruce is looking over his clothing choices with despair. He’s an old man trying to impress a 20 year old. He sighs and decides to go with a normal outfit, although he spares a moment to fuss with the collar of his shirt. There’s no reason for him to be so nervous, right?


End file.
